


Photography

by Tiph



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mr. Molesley is our hero, Set after Season 2, and john is sexy as always, even when he's not here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiph/pseuds/Tiph
Summary: “Mr. Molesley! You used to have hair!”Anna doesn’t hear the embarrassed answer the man empresses to give Daisy, so focused that she is on the treasure in her hands. The photo taken the day of their marriage is already her most prized possession, sitting proudly on her nightstand, the first and last thing she sees each and every day. Now, she has more pieces of her husband’s past to help mend her heart.





	Photography

It’s weird, how she only now notices the little things that are changing in her everyday life. They all treat her as if she’s about to break down at any second - and in a way, she is, but to have it acknowledged by everyone is more difficult to bear that she would have thought. She understands Mrs. Hughes’ concerned glances, and the fact that rarely has Mrs. Patmore cooked that much comfort food in less than two weeks. It’s when they’re trying to be subtle that the way they act towards her is the most obvious. Miss O’Brien’s guilt means that the woman does her hardest to avoid Anna at all costs, or sometimes distract Thomas’ from saying anything that would upset her. She is grateful that they’re all trying so hard, but in the end it only serves to remind her of what she has lost.

Working helps her, as it always has, the days blur into one another, and the wait is made easier, though still not bearable, by the amount of tasks thrown upon her shoulders. Right now, she’s in the servants hall, mending one of Lady Mary’s oldest dresses. It’s mindless work, so used she is to it by now, so instead she focuses on Mrs. Hughes’ voice and the sound of Daisy setting the table for the afternoon tea, the two woman conversing quietly while Thomas hovers in the background, reeking of smoke as always.

It’s Mr. Molesley’s sudden arrival that drags her out of the fog she was drifting in, he is carrying a small suitcase, gathering the attention of the few people around.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Molesley. What can we do for you?”

The butler turns to answer Mrs. Hughes, but his eyes keep wandering elsewhere in the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your tea, I just have something for Anna.”

At the sound of her name, Anna gets up with a sigh, already thinking back of the last time John has been absent from the house, and Mr. Molesley had a present for her. She hears a snort and Miss O’Brien make a sarcastic moment in the back, but pays her no mind. “It’s kind of you, but I already told you, I can’t…”

“Oh no no, I’m not here for that. Believe me, I would never, not again, and certainly not now. It’s something else entirely. May I?” He gestures to the empty space next to her cup and saucer, and she nods in answer, aware that the whole room is scrutinizing them. Mr. Molesley puts the suitcase on the table, though not without casting a quick glance behind him to make sure that Mr. Carson wasn’t here to tell him off.

“You know that Mr. Bates and I used to work in the same household before the Boers?” he doesn’t wait for her to acknowledge his question and keeps going, while working at opening the old battered suitcase. “Well, our employer was very fond of photography, and always bought the latest cameras, it was his hobby, really. He photographed his family, his domain, and sometimes even us, the servants.”

As he lifts the lid, Anna peeks inside, and is faced with what looks like a dozen of old photographs. They’re scattered inside the leather bound case, looking a bit yellow, some a bit torn, others that have been folded too many times, and yet, it’s the most beautiful thing Anna has ever seen. There are tears in her eyes as she realizes the incredible gift that Mr. Molesley is bestowing upon her. Mrs. Hughes is standing next to her, and everyone, including Thomas and Miss O’Brien, move around the long table to have a look at those memories of the past.

“Here,” Mr. Molesley picks the first one. It’s probably the largest in the suitcase, with what appears to be the whole group of servants standing outside the manor. “It’s the first one he took, of all of us. It was a few years before the war. I’m standing there, on the left, and Mr. Bates is right beside me. He was the first footman, I was the second.”

Anna doesn’t need help to find her husband’s face in the old photograph, she recognizes him instantly. His chubby cheeks still unmistakeable, a young boy, still. Just like the others, he isn’t smiling, but carrying a serious look, his head held high in pride.

The picture blurs little by little in her hands, and it takes her a moment to realize that her eyes are filling with tears.

“Mr. Molesley! You used to have hair!”

Anna doesn’t hear the embarrassed answer the man empresses to give Daisy, so focused that she is on the treasure in her hands. The photo taken the day of their marriage is already her most prized possession, sitting proudly on her nightstand, the first and last thing she sees each and every day. Now, she has more pieces of her husband’s past to help mend her heart.

Mrs. Hughes is standing right next to her, one hand on her back, as she looks at the photograph in Anna’s hands, a sad smile on her face.

“Mr. Bates looks quite the dashing young man here.”

A sob, or a chuckle, she doesn’t know which, is quickly followed by : “He is. A dashing man.”

“Oh Anna dear, look at this one,” it’s Mrs. Patmore, stepping towards her with another photo in her hands, a smaller one, but taken at a closer range. On this one, John has a big smile, free of all the burdens that would weight on him years laters, one that she herself has rarely ever seen, but what strikes her the most is the military uniform that he’s wearing, perfectly clean and pressed, ready to make the trip to a far and foreign land. He has an arm around the shoulders of another young man, similarly clad, that she recognizes as the third footman in the precedent picture.

“Thank you,” she looks up from the photograph in her hands, first to Mrs. Patmore, but then she clears her throat, and repeats, louder this time, “Thank you, Mr. Molesley. Thank you very much. I… It means so much to me.” Now the tears are freely running down her cheeks, and she makes no attempt to brush them off.

The moment is interrupted by one of the bells ringing, and she’s saddened to see that it’s coming from Lady Mary’s bedroom. Mrs. Hughes offers to go put away the suitcase in Anna’s bedroom herself, and she has no choice but to accept, already knowing that she wouldn’t be able to concentrate for the rest of the day.

A few minutes later, she starts tending to Lady Mary. Her eyes were probably still a bit puffy and red from earlier, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by the young woman.

“Anna, are you alright?”

“I am, Milady. I really am.”

And for the first time since John’s arrest, she is indeed fine.


End file.
